


home run

by brosandhoes



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Sex, Baseball, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Smut, Sports Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28532838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brosandhoes/pseuds/brosandhoes
Summary: In the process of moving into their new home, David finds his and Patrick's old baseball uniforms. Nostalgia isn't the only thing the newlyweds feel when they put them back on...
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	home run

**Author's Note:**

> this is my third fic. i like these characters a lot!

When Patrick enters the house carrying the final cardboard box from the moving truck, he’s greeted by a loud gasp coming from his and David’s bedroom.

“Oh my God!” he hears. “Honey, come look at this!”

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Patrick asks, rushing to the bedroom. He opens the door to find David holding up a green and white piece of fabric stained with dirt and grass. Patrick furrows his brow in confusion for a brief moment before he recognizes the baseball shirt. “David! Where did you find that?”

“My question is why did _you_ , Mr. Sentimental, find the need to save this stained, disgusting costume—”

“ _Uniform_ ”

“—and why are you getting all worked up about me finding it?” David continues with a quirk of his eyebrows.

Patrick is almost certain he’s blushing. He sets the cardboard box he carried in down on the bed and approaches his husband.

“Because I knew you’d make it a whole _thing_ ,” Patrick says, waving his hands around. “I don’t know, I just thought you looked really cute in it and I saved it in case… you know…”

“...I ever wanted to try it on again?”

Patrick leans forwards and nods into David’s shoulder. David lets out a quiet chuckle and presses a kiss onto the top of Patrick’s head.

“I could put this on, if you want...” David murmurs softly into Patrick’s hair. “You know… as a reward for bringing in all those boxes.”

Something stirs in Patrick’s stomach and suddenly his arms are wrapped around David’s waist, pulling him in.

“Oh, I’ll definitely need a reward, considering I brought most of them in while you were busy digging through all my stuff.” Patrick’s trying to be snarky but he can’t help the smile that forms thinking about David finding that uniform. He can’t help something else at the thought of him putting it on… and taking it off. “Was there, um… Did there at all happen to be another uniform in that box?” 

David wraps his arms around his husband’s shoulders and laughs, a twinkle in his eye that suggests he knows _exactly_ where Patrick is going with this and is _entirely_ on board.

“How about you look for it while I put this little number on, hm?” David heads for the bathroom to change, uniform slung over his shoulder. He pauses in the doorway to give Patrick a wink that straddles the line between playful and downright obscene. 

“Game on,” Patrick mutters to himself once he knows David is out of earshot.

…

When he hears David returning from the bathroom, Patrick is just about ready to wolf whistle. But once that door opens and he actually sees his husband standing there posing for him, he’s rendered totally speechless. What he’s seeing is even better than he remembered and he knows these tight fitting pants aren’t exactly hiding how he feels.

“Let the first act commence,” David says softly, leaning against the doorframe.

“Inning. And my god, David…” Patrick shakes his head in disbelief at the man in front of him. He saunters toward him, checking him out as obviously as he can. “May I say you are a _catch.”_

“And I see you’re ready to bat,” David adds, his eyes flickering down to Patrick’s crotch. “So… how about we score, then?”

With that, David leans in and kisses Patrick, softly but certainly with the intention of moving things along. They have to angle their heads in an awkward way so the brims of their caps don’t collide but Patrick, more impatient than usual, is quick to rip off David’s hat then his own and throw them to the floor. He turns David around and walks him up to the edge of the bed, just about ready to remove another piece of the uniform when David pulls away.

“Wait, so… how does this work, again?” he murmurs against Patrick’s lips.

“Well, one of us is going to go inside the other and—”

“You troll, no!” David scoffs and playfully gives his husband a shove. “Like… the baseball thing? When does the guy start running around?”

Patrick leans in and kisses David on the cheek.

“You’re adorable. I mean, a baseball game’s got like 16 other guys involved and if I recall correctly, even a third was too much for us so it’ll be a little hard to recreate the _whole_ experience,” Patrick leans in again and begins mouthing at David’s neck in between sentences. “But I think a good starting point would be to _batter up_.”

David lets out a moan laced with more enthusiasm than he’s ever shown towards sports and Patrick takes the opportunity to move his hands south. He palms at David’s growing erection and looks down to see it on display, those pants leaving very little to the imagination.

“Oh, my bat is definitely _up_ …” David moans again, flopping onto the bed behind him and pulling Patrick down with him.

“Perfect. Now from the looks of it, I’ll pitch and you can… receive?” Patrick says in a voice he’s trying his best to make sexy and looks down at David in all seriousness, only to find his husband giggling wildly underneath him. “What? It’s an important question, David!”

“So you’re telling me,” David sputters out, unable to finish his sentence without erupting into another fit of giggles, “there are _tops_ and _bottoms_ in baseball??”

“ _David_ , just go with the metaphor,” Patrick tries to sound chastising but can’t help the way his lips start curling up into a smirk. “I mean, I think even you have seen enough baseball to notice that it _is_ a very homoerotic sport.”

  
“Oh, believe me, I’ve been with enough diehard Yankees fans to know any man _that_ into watching little twinks run around in these spandex pants hitting balls is one of us,” David bites at Patrick’s earlobe and tries to bring his voice back down a husky whisper. “But anyways, I uh… prepared myself to receive.”

Patrick’s ears, and maybe something else too, perk up at that.

“I see… That’s why you were taking so long putting on your uniform, huh? I thought you were styling your hair to get that perfectly quaffed athlete look.”

“Oh, I know with these _mitts_ , that would be a waste of pomade,” David reaches for Patrick’s hands and squeezes them for emphasis. Patrick wriggles his hands free and places them on David’s shoulders.   
  


“I hate to ruin the moment, but I need you to know that you only wear one mitt in baseball.” He pauses, unsure of how much more brain power he’s able to devote to teaching David the particularities of America’s favorite pastime. “It’d be pretty hard to pitch with mitts on both hands.”

“Well, I hope you’re hard enough to pitch with one then.”

…

As much as Patrick liked David in that uniform, he likes him even more out of it. They’ve discarded the shirts emblazoned with the Cafe Tropical logo, the long socks just about cutting off their circulation, and the pants that Patrick is the most excited to bring back out another time. The cardboard box Patrick had brought in was carefully moved to the floor (“I don’t want to have to explain to my parents why the picture frames ‘mysteriously fell off the wall’,” David had said) and all that remained on the bed were two baseball players stripped to their briefs.

With the way David is splayed under him, already thrusting up to find some much needed friction, Patrick’s just about ready to rip those briefs right off.

“Hey, hey, hey, you should know better than anyone baseball games take a long time to finish,” Patrick says, sitting up and pulling himself away so David is left pushing up into the air above him.

“And you should know,” David pants, “that I do not!”

Patrick rolls his eyes at that but he knows that as much as he loves teasing David, neither of them will be able to withstand too much foreplay today. So, he runs a thumb under the elastic of David’s underwear and tugs them down. He has never been one to deny his husband of what he wants.

“Okay, okay, let me just oil up the old glove then,” Patrick mutters, reaching over to the bedside table and rummaging through the top drawer. He pulls out the lube and opens it with a _click_.

“You’re disgusting,” David whines. But he still spreads his legs and lays back into the mattress to let the pitcher do his work. Patrick does, in fact, get right to work. He pours the cool gel into his left hand and rubs it onto the right once the bottle is out of his grip. David’s holding onto it, pouring a little out himself. “I better oil up my bat then.”

“David,” Patrick says hesitantly. He’s almost ready to start opening David up but he can’t bring himself to do it until he can correct his husband’s misconstrued innuendos. “As sexy as this is, it would be doing even more for me if the metaphors were accurate.”

“What’s not accurate about oiling up a bat?”

Patrick just sighs and resigns himself to crawling back down the bed and between David’s legs.

“Let’s just get you ready to receive, okay?” Patrick slides his index finger into David before he can get another word out. He pushes it back and forth, faster than he normally would if he wasn’t chomping at the bit to get to the main event. David gasps at the feeling but doesn’t seem deterred from expanding on his previous point.

“So,” he stammers out, “is this _ahhh_ strike one…?”

“Sure, David,” Patrick says with a curl of his finger. Going off of how David is running his hands up and down Patrick’s back, he figures he’s ready for more. “Here’s strike two,” he murmurs into David’s thigh, pushing another finger inside.

“ _Ahh, ahh_ ,” David whimpers, “is that a strike-out, then?”

“See, this is one you should know,” Patrick replies, shaking his head at his husband’s impatience. “One more to go…” he brings his third finger up, tapping it on David’s rim. His husband lets out a frustrated grunt so Patrick complies, sliding his ring finger up and in. “And you are _out_.”

“So is it…” David breathes, barely able to enunciate clearly at this point, “the top of the _ahhhh_ first? Are _oh, fuck_ you the top of the first?”

“Well, the game is definitely under way and you’re definitely the bottom of something,” Patrick’s still thrusting his fingers into David, slowing down because, judging by the twitching of his “bat”, he can tell David could get to the bottom of the ninth with just this. But, of course, neither of them are going to let that happen.

…

“Patrick… this is amazing…” he mumbles, his eyes rolled back, hips bucking up wildly, “But do you think you can… you know… shoot a load onto the bases, or whatever?”

Patrick has his hands on David’s hips, thrusting him hard into the mattress as he hears this, so out of his mind with pleasure it takes him a full minute to even comprehend what David was trying to convey.

“‘Bases loaded’ isn’t a reference to cum, David…” he mutters into David’s shoulder. “But just so you know, I am getting close to a home run.”

“Me too… I think?” David snivels. Patrick can barely focus on anything other than his mounting orgasm but he’s pretty sure David is on the verge of tears. He slows his thrusts and gently places a hand on his husband’s face.

“Darling, is this too much?” Patrick’s voice is soft and steady now, though still a little out of breath. David shakes his head with a small smile.

“No, no, you’re doing a great job, honey.”

“Alright, I was just going to remind you that there’s no crying in baseball.” David gives him a gentle slap on the back at that. “But it’s okay if it means you’re enjoying the game.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve never found a sporting event so... _riveting_.”

Patrick feels oddly flattered and, with his returned confidence, thrusts into David even harder than before. He’s pulling himself all the way out and slamming back in each time, and each time, an even dirtier moan surfaces from the man below him.

“Another grand slam and I’ll be done for…” David murmurs.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help with your bat first?” Patrick’s eyes fixate on David’s leaking cock, trapped between their stomachs and turning an angry red. David gives him a curt smile and Patrick’s hand immediately drops down, gripping the shaft and eliciting a yelp from David.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he says in time with every thrust inside him, every twist of Patrick’s hand around him. “Once bases are loaded, it’ll be time for a home run.”

“Wait, that’s actually correct!” Patrick replies excitedly. But he can’t focus on David’s breakthrough any longer because he’s positively trembling and in desperate need of a release. “ _Ohhhh_ David, _fuck_ , I’m going to load them up so hard.”

And before David can conjure up any sort of baseball-related reply, Patrick’s shooting his release inside him, no longer thrusting, just gently rocking as he works through his orgasm.

“Fuck, Patrick, I’m _so_ close,” David mewls, tears returning to his eyes. “Can… _mmmm_ can you, you know… _oh god_ get that mouth of yours around my bat?”

Without even pausing to think about any scenario in which a baseball bat needs to get deep-throated, Patrick dips down and takes David’s pulsating cock into his mouth. He has his tongue making circles around the head and his hand pumping up and down on the base and it’s not much longer before David cries out again.

“Oh god! Oh god, _fuck_ , it’s a… it’s a…..”

David’s words turn to moans and he bucks his hips one last time with a shout, spilling down Patrick’s throat. Patrick stays there, swallowing down the load and catching the last remaining drips that pour out, until David collapses against the pillows. Patrick crawls back up and plants a messy kiss on David’s lips, one he’s sure David will be able to taste himself in. He pulls away to look back at his husband, absolutely wrecked. Tears are still running down his cheeks, his hair is a mess and he’s grinning with more earnestness than David could normally ever achieve.

“Were you trying to say it’s a home run?” Patrick quips, planting one final kiss on David’s forehead. David nods tiredly and Patrick continues. “Now, let’s find a special place for these uniforms so we can find them when it’s time to play ball again.”

  
  



End file.
